25 weeks...and the guilt of a working parent...

I was going to call this post "Nothing's right, I'm torn", so you could all sing it Natalie Imbruglia style...
Her lyrics summed things up nicely at the beginning of this week. Nothing was right - at home or at work - and I felt torn.
Thankfully things have improved, perhaps because I'm learning more about juggling things, but it's still difficult to let go of that ideal of being the "perfect" mum, the "perfect" worker and the "perfect" friend.
It doesn't help that poor baby D has been ill ever since my return. And yes, at first I did think there was a causal effect between the two. He was ill because I was being a terrible mother and going out to work. He didn't get better because he needed his mummy to be home taking care of him.
Situations like that bring my need to be in total control right to the fore. I know those who look after him while I work are more than capable. I know he has a great time and cries no more than he would cry if I were there. But they do not do things quite as I would do them, and that's hard for me to deal with. But I'm trying.
It's the same with Miss T. While at times it's been very trying being at home with her full-time for the last six months, it's also been great in many ways. We've built a closer bond and I cherish time with her. And we've built our own routines, our own ways to deal with certain scenarious and we know what we expect of the other.
So it's hard to see her behave in ways that are not as I expect, and to know that this behaviour continues when I'm not there to check it and hand out consequences.
But staying home with them full time is not an option at all. I need to work. Financially, yes, but also for my sanity. I had a check up today with my GP and she was amazed at the difference. I am me again, thanks to my time in the office. I am confident, I have fun, I am worth something.
And more importantly than that, I drive home every day (well, the four days I work) looking forward to seeing the children. And my days with them are precious. And that's a feeling that five months ago I wasn't sure I'd ever find again.

22 weeks

I've just been packing up some of baby D's tiny clothes after successfully selling them online, and it made me sad.
Sad that he's growing up and there will be no more babies (but not sad enough to change my mind!) but also sad that yet again I've wasted parts of his babyhood.
Okay, at five months old he's not quite ready to move out but the truth is that yet again, I haven't been as connected with him as I'd like.
Yet again this awful illness has robbed me of some of the joys of this period; the time spent snuggling, the moments of bonding.
While this episode is nowhere near as bad as last time, it's still bad enough for me to feel it's affected my relationship with him. He's a lovely, smiley, chatty little boy and also a bit of a mummy's boy, but I don't feel the same connection with him that he seems to have to me.
Perhaps it's because I've started back at work this week - today in fact - but I can't help wishing I could go back and do this again.
I know that's partly because I still have this desire to do things 'right', and getting PND again was definitely not part of that, but I can't help feeling that I'm letting him down by the way I feel. And Miss T too, of course.
But it's for them that I keep fighting. I hope they know I'm doing my best.

16 weeks...

...and all is still meh. I feel like I'm living in a bubble. Like a piece of gauze separates me from the rest of the world. Like no one can see me or hear what I'm saying. And it's only a short step from there to wondering if anyone would actually notice if I wasn't here at all.
I know it's the effects of those good old pills, and I know that it's better that I take them. But I can't help wondering when I'll start feeling like me again.
Of course it's better that I can accomplish everyday tasks like shopping and driving without irrational panic. And of course it's better that some of the more extreme aspects of PND-me are muted. But I wish that didn't mean the whole of me had to be turned down too. Subdued. Flat.
I spent this afternoon at work and that was great. But that's just an escape. A distraction. My real life now is what I've been doing the rest of the week - juggling two children, housework and general domestic drudgery.
I can manage that, of course I can - it's not rocket science. But I want more.
I want to feel alive. I want to feel happy. I want to feel.
I want Miss T and Baby D to think of their mother as a vibrant, loving, fun person but at the moment I fear I'm more like a hologram. A reflection in water. And if you throw a pebble in, I just might disappear.
But if you reach your hand out, who knows, I might emerge...

13 weeks

Today, as I went out to deposit a stinky nappy in the bin outside for the eighth time (yes, I had counted), Miss T asked where I was going.
For a split second, I wondered myself. I knew, as did she, that I was merely opening the front door to prevent the smell spreading through the house. But as I stepped into the sunshine and saw the long road to freedom, I very nearly shut the door behind me.
Of course, I didn't. And of course, I wouldn't. But the thought of just walking away and leaving it all behind was just so tempting. No more nappies, no more wailing, no more whining. Just freedom. Peace. Space.
I know it won't always be like this. And I know today was particularly testing, with Baby D refusing to nap and Miss T in full-on strop mode.
But that feeling, that craving for something else, is why I am organising my return to work.
I know there will be raised eyebrows at my plan to work a day (or at least a half day) a week starting very soon, and to return properly in May, when Baby D will be just five months old.
But I also know that for me it is absolutely the right option.
I cannot continue like this. I cannot spend Sunday nights battling crippling surges of anxiety at the thought of another week at home alone. I cannot spend my days hoping already over-stretched friends will have a spare hour to provide that much-needed adult company and distraction from my children.
It is not fair on me and it is not fair on them. Any of them. I don't want my valued friendships to suffer because I feel disappointed they do not have more to give. I don't want my children to wonder where mummy is going when she opens the door, or to have to ask where we are going today because they know we cannot be home all day.
I don't want my identity eroded any more by days wandering through streets populated only by other nameless faces, other people with nowhere else to be.
I am a mum. But I am also a person. And I need that space to be me.

"I didn't realise you were a mum...."

That's a comment I've heard quite a few times lately and I'm puzzled by it.
Mostly it's at my new place of work and I can think of several reasons for it, when I think logically:
1) We're so busy we don't really have time to get into deep personal conversations.
2) There's no room on my desk for photos, although Miss T is my screensaver - but I've always got programmes open on the screen.
3) I often stay late, so people assume I have no nursery pick-up etc to do (when the truth is that the ever-helpful grandparents are on duty, again...)
But it does bother me, if I'm in a tired and emotional state. Do I not seem motherly? And when they find out I do have a daughter, and a small one at that, their shocked expressions seem to indicate that I should be at home rather than pursuing a career.
It's a fact that the industry I work in can be male-dominated, perhaps because it demands unsocial hours that are difficult to do with children if there are no ever-helpful grandparents on hand, but one of my new colleagues has two small children and no one seems to express surprise to her.
Perhaps part of it is my fault - in the same way I saw my pregnancy as irrelevant to my work and was irritated by the constant questions whenever I was out trying to do my job, Miss T is not part of my working day, although I often miss being with her.
But I simply don't have time to engage the office in fascinating discussions about her latest achievements, and nor does anyone else.
That may sound harsh and I'm sure my work-life balance would not work for everyone. Nor do I think it will necessarily work for me for the next 20 years. But for now, working hard and playing hard (with Miss T on my days off) is an approach that works for me.
When I'm at work, I'm totally at work. Hours can whizz by with no thoughts of lost shoes, the school run or bedtime battles popping into my head. Of course, this is only possible because I know she's 100 per cent safe and happy with Mark, my parents, or our chidminder and I'm incredibly grateful for all of them for allowing me to concentrate on work.
But when I'm at home, and Tasha is awake, I'm totally at home. Since signing the contract for my new role, meaning I could give up most of my freelance commitments, I don't let work intrude on my days off and I try to give her my full attention, which means we have had some lovely days together.
It also means that there are few evenings out with Mark and weekends away are a rare luxury. Actually, not a luxury - almost a trial. I don't want time away from her. I want to spend time with her.
How bizarre it feels to be writing those words, on this blog!

Something to share...

Here's a little something I wrote for elsewhere that I thought some of you might like to read. Some of you, I fear, will be horrified....
I was prompted to share it after another puddle-splashing session by Miss T that ended with her sitting in the aforementioned puddle. Thank goodness for the ever-present emergency spare clothes!

WE'VE had swine flu - not literally in my case - so the latest headline-grabbing health scare seems to be E-coli.
Of course it is a serious illness and the tales of toddlers with organ failure are enough to strike terror into the hearts of parents everywhere, but the hysteria does seem to me to be another symptom of the germ-phobia sweeping this country.
While I don't encourage my own small daughter to eat her lunch in the toilet or to ignore basic hygiene, I also don't disinfect her toys or insist she washes her hands every time she strokes one of our two hairy hounds.
I'm sure there are some people reading that with a shudder and a squirt of anti-bacterial hand spray, but I don't want her life to be restricted by fears that are blown out of all proportion.
It's impossible to visit a farm now without dire warnings about risks to your health, and the handwashing police lurk by every pen.
When we stopped at a motorway service station last week I was astounded to discover people are now encouraged to disinfect toilet seats before using them - and before using the "wave to activate" no-contact flush system to ensure there is absolutely no chance of touching anything yukky. Apart from on the door handles and locks, of course...but there's always a wad of toilet roll and that ever-present anti-bacterial hand rub...
In our house, the 10-second rule is still in force: drop a piece of food or cutlery on the floor and as long as it's been there less than 10 seconds it's fine to pick up.
And when we go to the park or the beach we pick up all sorts of treasures to bring home without a moment's thought about all the nasties that could be lurking on them.
My sisters and I grew up literally eating mud pies (and worms, and drinking strange concoctions made using chalk and water) and survived to adulthood without any major episodes of illness.
And we had a lot of fun along the way, unlike the children I see who find their playtimes interupted every few minutes for a spray of this or a squirt of that to keep them squeaky clean.
Children get dirty; it's a fact of life and another of those quickly-discovered parental lessons.
But clothes can be washed, babies are bathed and it's amazing what you can achieve with hot water and soap.
So we'll keep on stroking animals, playing on the floor and creating masterpieces from mud and I hope my daughter will remember a childhood of fun instead of fear.

Fun in the sun...

It's been ages again, so I thought I'd try to make up for it with this pic of Miss T in her favourite place...

So where were we?

Oh yes...preschool...well, there were tears but we survived, of course. I think she actually quite enjoyed it and she says she's looking forward to going again this week. Can't say I'm looking forward to the drop-off but we'll both survive.

In other news, just for a change, work is madly busy but I'm loving it. I can't actually remember the last time I've felt so happy. Maybe it's because I'm in control of my life, working for myself, doing what I love. Maybe it's because I've devised a beautiful colour-coded schedule that (theoretically, when I'm not doing holiday cover or taking on extra work) gives me time off as well as time at work. Maybe it's because I'm proving to all those who doubted that I can be successful outside of the traditional office environment and there is life after redundancy. Maybe it's just because the sun is shining. I don't really care.

I would like more time with the smily little girl pictured here. But I also have to take the work while it's there, for all sorts of reasons. And thanks to the beautiful weather and our beautiful hometown, we can still have beach time after a day at the office.

So that's us - on the beach, in the office, at preschool...but happy!

I'm back! With apologies and an update...

Hello!
And so sorry for lack of posts. I've sat down to do it so many times but then something else has got in the way, be it small child, hairy animal or work.
As usual, the lack of posts is actually a good sign - I know if there had been burning issues swelling around my head I would have made time to let them out here.
Of course there have been difficult times but there have also been positive times in the month since I last updated you all. I really can't believe it's been so long!
So where were we?
The nightmare playgroup visit...well, of course we went back but we also tried another one which I much prefer. It's a lot friendlier, a lot less cliquey and feels a lot less judgemental. Plus there are more children and a lot more room which means it's more fun for Miss T, who has started asking to go.
We've started a new "behaviour shaping" method where she earns bricks in a jar for being good and loses them for bad behaviour. When she has enough she earns a fun treat, and so far it's working well. She hates the idea of losing bricks and loves the treats so it's a great motivator and better than the naughty step, which was losing its impact.
I'm enjoying my time with her a lot more than I ever thought possible, and I'm realising - finally - that these days will never return.
In fact, as the work situation improves slightly (I have picked up some regular freelance shifts which provide much-needed income), I find myself yearning for those lazy days of painting, park and playing. We'd both got used to the idea of chilling out and getting ready in our own time so the first morning we had to be out of the house by 8am was a bit of a shock!
Of course, I'm loving being back in a newsroom. It's what I do, it's who I am. As much as I've enjoyed being a stay at home parent, I can't deny my need to write. Part of me is a bit sad that it's meant I have eased off on other plans but I have to be realistic and work with the opportunites that present themselves. There's no need to do everything at once, as a good friend of mine would say!
However I do have some concerns, especially in the light of my renewed positive mental health. I'm very much an all-or-nothing person, in work and in other areas, and I am finding it hard not to get sucked back in to the all-hours culture of a newsroom. There have already been some signs, like attending evening jobs which I'm not technically paid for, and working late. It's easy to put these down to doing a good job, especially as I've very grateful to my new colleagues for giving me the opportunity to use my skills and earn more money. But I'm trying hard to remember to say no, and make decisions with my family in mind as well as my work.
That's about it for now, and sorry it's a bit vague but at least it's a sign things are going well, I think...I'll try to be back within a month this time!

A calm week?

So it's been a week without posting.
And while that may be dull for you lot, it does, in general, mean that things have calmed down here. I haven't felt that burning urge to get everything out here before I explode.
Of course that doesn't mean we have been existing in a pink and fluffy world all week, sadly. There have been tears and tantrums, but luckily only from the toddler and I have been able to deal with them in a calm and consistent manner, mostly.
It is hard work, it's such hard work that it's difficult to explain to anyone who doesn't share their house with a wilful and intelligent toddler. You simply can't have a lazy day where you let things slide because the results are hellish for days. You have to keep on top of the behaviour, ideally in a calm and consistent fashion, with warnings and choices and consequences. It's exhausting.
We're on holiday at the moment, and while it's fantastic to be exploring a place as beautiful as where we are staying, it's bittersweet for me because there's not much change from my life at home.
Mark has a week without work to look forward to, but mine has come with me - although only for today, hopefully. And my day to day life at home involves much the same as days on holiday so it's hard to see it as a break.
However it is lovely to be able to share family time together so enough of the moans. As well as keeping on top of toddler tantrums (and I'm not sure I can really call her a toddler any more!), we're having some great conversations and this has been the first holiday where she has really understood what is going on and has been excited about it, which is fantastic. I am actually looking forward to some of the activities we have planned together, rather than thinking of ways to escape and plan time for myself, which is a huge achievement for me.
There's not really anything else to say at the moment so I hope this short update will suffice for now. Fear not, if another crisis looms, you will most definitely hear about it!

Re-evaluating?

I'm in a bit of a quandary today, and I shouldn't be. It's all very odd. But I expect you are used to that by now.
So this afternoon we popped out to buy some laminate flooring - it's my first big purchase using my redundancy money (although at £160 it's not exactly massive!) and we decided to go ahead with it despite the potential lack of future paycheques simply because the carpet downstairs is getting too awful to live with.
This is important, honest...bear with me!
So after paying for the flooring I decided to pick up a free newspaper on my way out of the shop. No real reason other than I hadn't read a copy of it for a while, and I'll read anything!
We then went off out and about and I've only just managed to read it. And noticed that they are advertising for freelance and contract journalists. And wasn't as excited by that as I thought I would have been.
On the surface it looks perfect - a freelance position should, in theory, give me the flexibility I need, and it's the profession I've dreamed of, trained for and dedicated my life so far to.
So why am I not already composing my application?
I'm not really sure. Maybe because the state of the industry makes me nervous still. Maybe because a return to the stress of a newsroom dooesn't seem that great after a few months out of it. Maybe because I'm enjoying all the other bits and pieces I'm doing.
I've thought and thought and worried and thought about what to do and have decided to go with the flow for a bit. Maybe the advert was the reason I was meant to pick up that edition of that paper today. So I'll respect those signals from the universe and sent off my CV, and if it's meant to be, then it's meant to be. But if it's not then so be it and I'll continue with everything else I'm doing. Maybe I can even do both - and conquer the world at the same time! I'll let you know...

Updated update

It seems there is some unrest among some of my most loyal readers about the lack of updates here, despite my carefully crafted explanations about limited computer time and pressures of work.
So to satisfy those grumblers, here is an update.
And it's a strange one. I started writing this thinking there was hardly any point because everything was rosy and I had no news to report, but I'm not sure that's entirely true.
Work is busy, which is fantastic, but I don't seem to be making much money from it, which is less so.
I've applied for yet another job, but I'm really not sure I want it because it would mean a return to the office politics that I was so pleased to get out of, but equally it would be a fantastic opportunity and an exciting challenge, if I can get past the politics!
There has been more doom and gloom from my previous employer, which makes me feel vindicated in my decision to get out when I did but sad for my former colleagues.
And more of my former colleagues who left with me have found other employment, which brings up those old feelings of jealousy and bitterness. I know I'm lucky to be doing what I'm doing, and it is exciting and fun, but it's also a real hard slog. And a bit lonely in the office! And there is no one else to share the load with, to call a favour in with, or to field the phones for a bit.
Outside of work (not sure that's actually possible these days - everything is work!), Miss T and I are doing okay. As long as I get time to work - there it is again! - I can enjoy my time with her, but I have so much to do that if it doesn't go to plan, eg she won't sleep when I need her to or I haven't got childcare arrangements sorted for the week, I find myself easily stressed out.
I've also noticed a change in me that I'm not particularly happy about, although others may disagree.
I've always been proud to say I'm a good friend, and I'm always there for people. But lately, I'm not. I just can't keep myself going and be strong for everyone else. I'm painfully aware that my new positive outlook is fragile, to say the least, and I fear that too much negativity will cause it to shatter around me.
Maybe that's irrational. Maybe it's not a bad thing, because it's forcing me to think about my own needs instead of distracting myself with others. But I can't help feeling I'm letting people down.
If I see, for example, a Facebook post that screams "I need someone to talk to", although it may not actually say that in so many words, I find it very hard not to respond with the offer of a coffee.
Of course, they have many other friends who could make that same offer, and probably do, but it's a role I have traditionally cast myself in and if I'm not the supportive, listening ear, then who am I?
Well there's a deep question for you all - and it's late and I'm tired and I have not one, not two, but three meetings tomorrow, starting at 7am, so I'll leave you all to ponder it.

The universe and me...

Have I mentioned my new positive thinking ethos?
Maybe a few times.
Well, the good news (yes, you read that right!) is that maybe it's paying off.
To update you all, I said thanks but no thanks to the full time job after being offered a part time one from today's interview.
I haven't said yes to that yet though because I still have tomorrow to go! So I'm still confused, but confused and in demand which is not a bad place to be!
Maybe it's all just a coincidence but at this moment in time I'm thinking that things are happening for a reason.
I'm meeting people for a reason, I'm ending up in different situations for another reason.
I'm not always sure what it is, especially not at the time, but there is definitely a reason.
And since managing to accept that and go with it, things seem to be looking up.
It's really simple, as all the best things are - if something feels wrong, it probably is wrong, eg a full time job, but if it feels right, then go for it.
And to take this mumbo-jumbo, as I know some of you will call it, to the next level, I'm starting to think that if something keeps coming back to you then you should act on it.
I'm not quite ready to reveal exactly what keeps coming back to me, but I'm acting on it and seeing where it takes me.
That's a new thing for me as well - not revealing every minute detail of my life here. That doesn't mean this will turn into one of those annoying blogs where the writer hints at whatever is annoying her, or glosses over some personal tragedy - I'm still a firm believer in getting it all out there. But for now I'm just going with the flow and I'll let you know where I end up!

Dilemma...but a good one?

So I'm confused. And while I hate that - of course I do, the very state of mind indicates a lack of control! - I can see that actually there are positives to be had, as usual.
I was going to offer this particular dilemma up here as a sort of poll, but I think actually the decision has been made. But any further input would be welcomed, even if it's to tell me I'm mad (although I already know that!).
Right. Let's get to it.
So I'm still job-hunting. Although I admit to doing so with less gusto than a few months ago as I start to focus instead on myself as a business and the freelance work I have been getting, plus other similar opportunities in the future.
And this week I somehow found myself with three interviews lined up - all of which have come to me, rather than me applying via any formal process.
I had the first one yesterday, one is tomorrow and one on Thursday. If I'm honest, the one on Thursday would always have been my first choice - it's reasonably local, hours to suit and would allow me to use my writing skills while developing new ones.
But the first company I saw have already offered me the position. And I think I'm going to turn them down.
Not just because I like the sound of the Thursday job more, or even because I think I stand more chance of getting either of the other two.
Not even because it's further away than the other two so means more travelling and more money in petrol.
I'm going to turn it down - even in this economic climate - because they want me to work full time and won't consider anything less.
Does that make me mad?
Three years ago, probably even a year ago, and probably five years from now I would say yes in a flash.
But now I want to spend time with my little girl before she is not so little.
I never thought I would be even considering turning down work - and paid work at that - in favour of spending time with the child I used to refer to as "that baby". Work was my escape, my focus, my reason for carrying on.
But as I continue to adjust to this with-child life, and continue to learn to enjoy it, I realise that actually that won't work for me any more.
In fact, a full time job, 45 minutes from home, would probably have more negative effects on my precious little family than no job at all.
Just the thought of the mountains of housework to do in evenings and at weekends, the friends to squeeze in or lose touch with, the activities we'll miss makes me feel like a failure so the reality would definitely stress me out.
Because of this economic climate I will wait until after the other interviews before making my final final decision, because after all any job at this point in time is better than no job. Probably. Maybe.
Who knows?!

Things to celebrate...

1) For the second day in a row, Miss T declared that she wanted to go to bed for a nap, then actually went to sleep!

2) Yesterday, for the first time, she said "Thank you mummy" after I handed her something she wanted - without being prompted! (she also told off the decorator in my parents' house after he successfully negotiated her piles of toys and books on his way though but didn't say "Excuse me please...")

3) I have no idea what I'm doing next week - and I'm not that bothered!

If you're not impressed by all that, well, you should be! It's somewhat scary for me to read back that last point but it's true. The temp work I have been doing looks like it will come to an end on Friday and although I have several irons in the fire, or fingers in pies, or whichever cliche you prefer, I have no idea where my next pay cheque will come from.

But that's okay. Because at the moment I'm happy to let things happen. Without getting all spiritualistic/mumbojumboistic on you all, I'm starting to believe that old mantra that things happen for a reason. I've learnt some great skills from my temping placement and made some great contacts but I think it's time to move on. I may return later, or I may not. Who knows?

Equally, as I venture tentatively into the frankly terrifying world of self-employment (I'm practising hard at not thinking about cash sheets and ledgers and other things that involve numbers....), I'm making some interesting contacts there and there's a strong possibility that things will turn out okay. Or maybe even better than okay.

And perhaps the best bit? I'm making some great friends along the way!

So there are definitely plenty of things to celebrate!

Thursday things

Another one of those interesting mixed days....or weeks....or should that be months....
Progress in some areas, and I'm loving spending time with Miss T when I'm not working, but issues in other places.
And, I'm afraid to confess, as usual they are my issues with other people's comments.
I picked her up from the lovely childminder's this afternoon to be told she had been unsettled, which was not unexpected as she reverted to crying when Mark dropped her off this morning.
Of course she was fine, and managed to make two Christmas decorations and play with her two best friends, but it was a bit of a change from the sessions where she waves us off happily.
Wise woman that she is, the childminder suggested the change may be due to the fact that I'm now working quite a lot, and she is now there for longer sessions instead of a two-hour play time to keep the routine going.
I'm sure she is right, and it just means a bit more time for Miss T to adjust to the change. It's by no means a disaster, and wasn't even a big deal for the childminder, who pointed out even though it had been a difficult day it was no way near as bad as the early days with lots of screaming.
But can you guess what's coming?
Massive maternal guilt! I almost went straight home and phoned my new temporary work colleagues to say I wouldn't be in!
Luckily I realised that was ridiculous but still felt quite miserable for a while.
And there was more misery after a festive visit to a friend's yesterday, where there is a small baby in the family.
He was not there but his mum was and was positively glowing with pride and love for him. It was obvious how much she loves being with him and is genuinely amazed by each new thing he does.
It was lovely to see but it did make me feel sad that I missed out on all that - part of me is still astounded that anyone can actually enjoy something I found so hellish.
But let's end on a happier note - more progress to report. I'm working on strategies to deal with those moments where I could happily strangle her (and I know for sure I'm not alone in those!) and they seem to be working. It's early days but no strangulation incidents have occured, even though there has been dog tail pulling, dog leg lifting (don't ask me why!), dog water spilling, dog food throwing....and no, the strategy does not involve getting rid of the dogs!

Someone give me a slap!

You never know, it might shake things up a bit!
I've been working this week but don't get too excited, it's basically just temping.
And it's been good to be dealing with the different challenges that office life brings compared to toddler life. But (whisper it!) I wanted to be at home!
Yes, you read that right. I, who have spent the last two months bleating about wanting to work, wanted to be at home.
And not just at home by myself, although that would have been bliss. I wanted to be at home with Miss T, or more specifically out at the dreaded play gym with the painted ladies, out feeding the ducks, out meeting friends or home reading books and baking cakes.
In a way, that's a good thing. It shows that we do have some kind of bond because I wanted to be with her, and it makes me appreciate the time we have spent together during this blip in my career, and the time we will spend together in future.
And it also helps make my future a little clearer - maybe a regimented 9-5, even if it's only for three days a week, just isn't for me any more, at this stage in my life. That doesn't mean I'll be returning to a life of leisure for this week, or indeed for a while - my temporary colleagues want me back and I need the money.
But I will be investigating the freelance/self-employed route with vigour!
Now, that was the good news. The less good news is that despite my new-found, and long-awaited clarity, I have been struggling at home recently.
I'm hoping it's down to my much-documented inner turmoil, which like many other things, will soon pass. Because if it doesn't then I'm afraid I will be taking another vote on the good old happy pills/therapy route. It is something that has been mentioned by others several times lately and as I'm sure you all know, I have so far stubbornly resisted. I can't help feeling it would be a backwards step - nay, giant leap.
But I also can't help feeling that it's not fair on Miss T, or Mark, or others around me, to continue as I am.
Maybe Father Christmas can bring me a sprinkling of perfect parent potion along with a host of freelance opportunities...

A week of no dramas?

Almost a whole week without a post? What to deduce from that? Well, either I've been inundated with job offers and have been too busy, or there has been a week without dramas.
The answer is the latter, and I was going to add sadly, but that doesn't seem quite right. It is sad that as yet no employer has snapped me up (although I'm waiting on the results of three interviews so all is not lost!) but not sad that I've got through six days without feeling the need to rant/vent/unload.
So what's new? Well, not a whole lot. I'm clinging to the hope that I'll have a job by Christmas, although as it's rushing towards us at a terrifying pace that does seem slightly unrealistic. Each week seems endless when Monday comes round and I struggle to see ways to get through it. But each time Friday arrives we have managed somehow, and with less of those awful days that seemed to haunt me at the beginining of this latest chapter of my life. In fact, I can even look forward to some of that plentiful Tash and mummy time and the activities we do together!
She of course changes almost daily and today came out with something that no matter how hard I try, I can't simply brush off.
We were having a conversation about cats on mats prompted by a picture in a book when she came out with the following: "Patches is sitting on the mat."
I'm sure that's what it was - and the thing that makes it so strange is that Patches is the name of one of our family cats from several years ago.
She has in the past said things like "I'm talking to the lady" when there is no one but us, but I've put that down to her vivid imagination - she frequently takes her dolls on outings to the beach or the park without leaving the house.
But the specific mention of Patches - and I know it sounds awfully like cat, but I'm sure it wasn't that - was strangely comforting to me. As if not only are my real-life friends and virtual supporters rooting for me but figures from the past are also doing their bit.
I'm going to go now before you all thing I've really lost the plot!

Spoke too soon!

You would think I would have learnt by now. If I'm feeling positive I should keep it to myself, because it's clearly a jinx. Although naturally all the doom and gloom should be shared via this blog - otherwise what would you all do for entertainment? ; )
So yesterday was another good day - so good in fact that I remarked upon the fact to Miss T during bathtime and she agreed it had been fun.
Today has not been. There's not been much difference - we were out this morning, then we fed ducks, but then it all went wrong.
When I think about it honestly, I know it's nothing to do with her - yes, she wouldn't go to sleep when I expected her to, and she pulled the dog's hair, and washed her hands in their water, and had various strops - but that wasn't the cause.
So what was? Partly the fact that I'm stuck at home with no respite - even the work I'm doing at the moment, great though it is, is done from home.
Partly the fact that I was reminded of my atrocious lack of self-esteem - a simple request for a head shot was enough to send me into a spiral of panic and wondering if I could get away with submitting a pic taken four years ago!
Partly frustration that I didn't achieve as much as I wanted in the last two days because of her lack of sleep and trying to help.
And partly - and I know this is bad - a searing jealousy that Mark has been out at work all day and gets to go out tonight as well. It's nothing I haven't done a hundred times, back in the days when I had a job to go to (although mostly my evening excursions were for work as well) but on a day like this the hours are like an endless night and a two hour break just doesn't seem enough.
Of course it will be, and of course tomorrow things will look brighter, but today I'm wondering where I put my lovely therapist's number, and if we could scrape together the money for a rescue-and-restore session with her.